


The Finest Entertainment

by BeesKnees



Category: White Collar
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-21
Updated: 2012-09-21
Packaged: 2017-11-14 17:25:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/517712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeesKnees/pseuds/BeesKnees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal and Keller decide to indulge in the middle of a con.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Finest Entertainment

“You’re the pretty boy,” Keller drawls, and that somehow ends up being the end of the discussion. 

They need to get into this party if this con is going to work out. This particular party is hiring models to stand around — and Neal is the “pretty boy,” so he ends up doing that to get in. What he hadn’t expected is to be covered in gold from head to foot, a thin powder that covers his skin and his hair, and he expects that he’ll never be able to get it all off, no matter how hard he tries.

The other unexpected thing is just much it seems to get under Keller’s skin. They leave the party early, and they’ve only just walked in the door of the crummy place that they’re sharing together when Keller pushes him up against it. He pulls off the clothes that Neal had put back on, tatty things that he was willing to ruin, and throws them across the floor. He runs his hands across Neal’s hips, his fingers leaving long streaks in the wake of gold. Neal can watch his pupils get wide.

“You like something, Keller?” Neal goads, because he can’t not. He expects some kind of comeback about how cheap he usually looks, but instead Keller just roughly grabs him by the hair and devours his mouth. He licks Neal open, and sinks his teeth into his lower lip, and Neal expects to taste blood. When Keller pulls away, he’s also streaked in gold, an imprint of where he and Neal had touched. 

He pushes Neal toward the bed, and then shoves him down against the silk sheets that they had brought with them because Neal won’t sleep on anything else. He wants to argue that they’re going to run them, but Keller is on him again in a minute, ripping off his own clothes in the process. He shoulders off his shirt and kicks off his pants, and then pushes his body flush against Neal’s. 

He runs his hands roughly down Neal’s sides, as if he’s intending to leave black and blue in the midst of the gold. He bites at Neal’s neck, and Neal can’t help but gasp, and then stare in return when Keller surfaces with even more gold splashed across his face. 

He leans over the side of the bed without warning, flips open the door to the mini fridge that’s there, and pulls out a bottle of champagne. 

“Thought I’d save this for when we’re done, but fuck it,” Keller announces briskly. He gets the bottle open, and without warning, upends part of the bottle over Neal’s mouth. Neal tries to shout at him, but only ends up swallowing a mouthful of champagne. 

Keller leans in again and begins to lick at Neal’s lower lip, and then sucks it, collecting the beads of champagne that are there. He upends the bottle again, and the champagne is cold on Neal’s chest, leaving a streak through the gold. His nipples begin to harden, and he arches up, his shoulder blades pressing down against the sheets. He sorely wants to ask Keller if he’s out of his goddamn mind, but for the time being, he’s just trying to keep up. His cock is hard already, pressing up against Keller’s, and he can’t help but begin to grind upward, groaning quietly in the back of his throat.

Keller follows the line of champagne, his teeth playing across Neal’s throat. He sucks a deep bruise right above Neal’s pulse, and then pulls one of his nipples into his mouth. He bites down, just a little too sharp, and Neal cries out. His hips jerk forward, and he can hear Keller groan in response. His hands go down then, sticky and cold from the champagne. He holds Neal down. 

All it makes Neal want to do is move. He rears up, running his hands down Keller’s back, enjoying the image of red streaks just barely concealed by gold. He lifts his hips and Keller just presses down harder. He licks a strip across Neal’s nipple, glances up at him, and smirks. 

“They get you down there too?” Keller asks, his eyes flitting downward. Neal smiles, and Keller’s smirk grows. 

Keller grinds downward, the motion just a touch too rough and it makes them both shudder for an instant. Then, Keller sets a rough pace, their bodies moving together. The champagne, which had been precariously balanced on the bed next to them upends, and spills across the bed and Neal’s body. It’s uncomfortable, and he’s suddenly drenched in it, and he can’t give a damn. 

Keller’s teeth find his shoulder, and he sucks the champagne off first, growling as he brings Neal’s hips upward, as if he’s not already moving. In return, Neal drags his fingers down Keller’s back, and grabs at his ass, hauling him closer as well. They both race toward the edge, as if competing with each other — which, honestly is what they’ve always been good at. 

But Keller comes first, his entire body going rigid. He bites down hard on Neal’s shoulder, breaking the skin, and spurting hot across Neal’s stomach. Neal cries out, unable to swallow the noise. He pushes up against Keller, once, twice more, and then follows as well. 

He struggles to catch his breath, and as soon as he comes back to himself, he pushes Keller off him. He rolls to the side, flopping on the wrecked bed beside Neal, letting one of his arms land freely across Neal’s chest. He glances down at it, and, in doing so, realizes what a mess he is. Half of the gold powder has been rubbed off his body — and is now on Keller’s body. He can’t help but laugh when he gets a good look at what Keller’s front looks like.

“Shut up, Caffrey,” Keller says, planting a hand on Neal’s face and pushing his cheek the other way — but there’s little bite to his words.


End file.
